


Breaking Point

by Ralkana



Category: Leverage
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-28
Updated: 2010-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/pseuds/Ralkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know those buttons, Nate? You keep pushing, and pushing, and pushing, and something's gonna snap." An episode addition to <i>The Scheherazade Job</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer – _Leverage_ is owned by Electric Entertainment and TNT. I'm just playing.
> 
> Timeline ~ Takes place directly after _The Scheherazade Job_.
> 
> Rated for language.

"Perhaps," Jane said shyly, "You will find the time to travel to Wadata. To see what your generosity has provided."

Eliot smiled. "I'd like that," he said, and he realized it was the truth. The nature of their work meant that they hardly ever got to see the results of it. Besides, he could go to Wadata, keep an eye on things, make sure they were running smoothly -- beat some doors down if they weren't. He'd have Hardison take a look at the financial side of things as well, to keep the funds from being siphoned into anyone's pockets. Alexander Moto couldn't be the only corrupt individual in Wadata.

She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with humor and interest, and his own smile faltered.

Jane was pretty, and intelligent, and under other circumstances, maybe... but it wasn't other circumstances. She was a client, and that made things sticky.

But there was something about her sense of idealism that pulled him in like a magnet. His own faith in human nature had been irredeemably tarnished before his twentieth birthday, but even after everything that had happened in her country, everything she'd seen and written about, that hope still shone in her. Eliot prayed that nothing would ever put that light out.

His attention shifted to the bar, and he watched as Hardison -- who'd been beaming like a damn kid at Christmas all night -- stood and left the bar, his face tight and angry. Tossing a glare at Nate, Parker followed him, and after a few quiet, serious words, Sophie followed her.

Intrigued, Eliot returned his attention to Jane, offered her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "If you'll excuse me..."

He did his best to ignore what might have been regret in her eyes as she nodded. "Of course."

He went to Nate's side. "What's up? Where'd everybody go?"

Nate took a swallow of his drink, gestured with the glass. "Hardison's... a little upset."

Eliot frowned. "What? Why?"

When Nate only shrugged, Eliot growled and shook his head in exasperation, following the rest of his team out the door.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alone now, Nate took another drink and tried not to remember the pride that had bloomed within him as he'd listened to Hardison make the Strad soar and weep.

The boy could play, that much was obvious. If the lure of computers hadn't been quite so strong, Nate wondered, where would Alec be now? Legimately touring? Playing concert halls? Carnegie?

Sam would be old enough now, he realized, and the sharp, jagged ache of it made him lift his glass again, swallow down the welcome burn of the fire. Old enough for recitals, for karate tournaments and baseball games -- who knew what his little boy would have wanted to do?

The door to McRory's slammed open and Eliot stormed back in. Parker, Hardison, and Sophie trailed in his wake.

"You hypnotized him?" he snarled at Nate, swinging an arm back to point at Hardison. The hacker glared at Nate, arms folded tightly across his chest.

Nate swallowed the last of his whiskey, glancing around at the other patrons as he did. Several of the regulars -- used to the drama that surrounded Nate's little group -- didn't even glance over, but there were plenty of people watching, wide-eyed.

"This isn't the place, Eliot," he said calmly.

"Not the place," Eliot repeated. "Right... it's okay for me to bust heads in here, as long as it's not yours. Got it."

Nate toyed with the empty glass in his hand, staring evenly at the hitter. "You gonna bust my head, then?"

Reason knocked at Eliot's temper, and he glanced around at the avid faces of the spectators. The anger on his face had them all quickly looking away, but it was enough for him to take a deep breath and calm down -- a little.

"Fine," he bit out. "Team meeting. Attendance is mandatory. Upstairs. Right now, dammit."

He strode for the stairs, not bothering to see if everyone would follow. They'd be there, if he had to come back down to the bar, knock them out, and drag them up the damn stairs one by one.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Eliot didn't pace -- it was a waste of energy. He wasn't sure, however, that he wasn't expending the same energy vibrating with rage as he stood in Nate's living room with his arms crossed, watching the door.

Hardison entered first, followed directly by Parker.

"Look, man," the younger man began. "I appreciate this, but you don't need -- "

Eliot shook his head. "It's not about you. Not just about you," he clarified. "This is about him -- he doesn't get it."

"I don't like that he can just get in our heads whenever he wants," Parker said anxiously. "Is that why we're all still here? Is he keeping us here?"

"Parker, it's not like that," Eliot tried to reassure her. "What he did to Hardison wasn't right, but it's not like we're his slaves."

"How do you know?" she argued. "If he's got you hypnotized, how do you know you're not? Hypnosis can last forever."

"No, Parker," Sophie said gently as she came in. "Nate would never do that. What we did was just to -- "

"You were in on it, too?" Eliot broke in. "Figures. I shoulda known."

Sophie drew herself up straight, offended. "Excuse me -- just what is _that_ supposed to mean, Eliot?"

Not bothering to answer, Eliot just waved her off with a huff and then ignored her indignant sputters. The silence was awkward and stretched on for what seemed like forever. With a snarl, Eliot stepped forward, intending to make good on his vow to go down and drag Nate out of McRory's if he had to.

Nate strolled in, ignoring them all on his way to the wet bar. He poured himself another drink, leaning against the bar. "Shall we call this meeting to order, then?"

"Did you really hypnotize Hardison?" Eliot asked him. "Without his knowledge?"

"I don't understand what you're so upset about," Nate said calmly. "We did the job, he played the song, he's fine."

"Fine," Eliot repeated in disbelief.

"He's not hurt." Nate turned to Hardison. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Did it even occur to you to _ask_ him?" Eliot snarled.

Nate shrugged. "He would have said no."

"And he would have had a goddamn _right_ to say no!" the hitter exploded. "It's _his_ head! We would have found another -- "

"There. Was. No. Other. Way," Nate bit out. "This was the plan -- "

" _Your_ plan, Nate!" Eliot stabbed out with a finger. "Who knows what we could have come up with?"

"When we started this whole thing, you agreed -- "

"I agreed to be part of a _team_ , Nate."

" _My_ team," Nate argued.

"Yeah," Eliot said, nodding his head in angry agreement. "Your team, fine. Your plans, fine. We never signed on to have you screwing around inside our heads!"

"Eliot," Sophie said soothingly. "Look, I know you're upset, but -- "

"You stay out of this," Eliot said, whirling on her. "You got nothin' to say in it. As fucked up as it is, at least he did it for the sake of a job! You had me serving you _tea_ , goddammit!"

Her hands fluttered uneasily. "That was just a joke, Eliot."

"Am I laughing?"

"It's not like you haven't served me tea before!"

"When _I_ wanted to! You know, that's the problem -- you seriously think it's funny, don't you, messing with people's heads like that?" he asked, his voice shaking with angry disbelief. "With your team's heads -- your _friends'_ heads? Christ, no wonder we're all so fucked up."

"Hey," Nate snapped, setting his glass down hard so that it clacked against the bar, drawing the hitter's attention back to him. "Your problem's with me, not her, so -- "

"Uh uh," Eliot said. "No, my problem's with both of you. You, her, it's all the same. We are not the marks. We are not your goddamn children. We are adults, we are professionals, and we are members of this team, Nate."

"No one has ever said you're anything less than that," Nate countered.

"Then _act_ like it! You don't treat teammates this way! You don't con your own team!" he said fiercely, looking from Nate to Sophie. "Look... you conned us with Blackpoole, and I got past that," he said.

She opened her mouth to protest, and then wisely decided not to argue as he added, "You did it to help Nate, or 'cause we're all thieves, or whatever."

He turned back to Nate. "You conned us with Sterling, and I've been working on getting past that."

Nate, unlike Sophie, was ready to argue. "Eliot -- "

"I'm not finished," Eliot said firmly. "You did it for us, or so you say. The only reason I didn't just walk then, Nate, is that I was watchin' out for them," he said, cocking his head toward the rest of the team. "Somebody had to. But now you're hypnotizing him, and she's brainwashing me, and what the hell, man?"

Nate raised his glass again and took a sip, fighting not to roll his eyes. "I did what needed to be done to finish the job. You're being ridiculous, Eliot."

The hitter's spine snapped straight, and his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm being -- " The rage coursed through him, and he took a step toward Nate before he stopped himself. "I'm being ridiculous? You're the one that called us family, Nate. This is how you treat family? This is how -- "

Eliot barely stopped himself before he said something unforgivable. The wrath subsided, leaving only empty weariness. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, Nate, I'm not being ridiculous. These are legitimate concerns. And until you realize that, we're done."

Slipping a hand into his pocket, he pulled out his earbud. He turned, pushed it into Hardison's hand as he slapped the younger man on the shoulder.

He turned back to Nate. "When you're ready to treat this team _like_ a team, call me. I'll be in Wadata. Building a school."

He strode toward the door, refusing to look at the rest of them. Parker, he knew, would find him before he left. Hardison would be with her. And... "Sophie" -- well, he wasn't in the mood for her theatrics right now anyway.

The door shut behind Eliot with a click, leaving the four of them to stare at it in shock.

"You know those buttons, Nate?" Hardison asked, his voice tight with disappointment and anger as he clenched his fist around Eliot's earbud. "You keep pushing, and pushing, and pushing, and something's gonna snap."

Shaking his head, he turned and walked out of the apartment.

Parker eyed Nate. "Have you hypnotized me so I'll stay?"

He stared back at her. "What? No, Parker, of course I haven't. You've stayed because you wanted to."

She slowly shook her head. "I don't know. How do I know, Nate? I don't know if I can trust you anymore," she told him before turning and running after Hardison.

Sophie slapped her hands on her thighs and took a shaky breath.

Taking another sip, Nate shook his head. "Don't start, Sophie."

Then he snorted. "This is stupid -- I don't even know what to call you since you won't tell me your goddamn name."

She stared at him, her eyes bright with tears. She shook her head, shrugged. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?"

Sniffling, she wiped her eyes, her heels clicking sharply as she left the apartment.

Leaning on the wet bar, Nate stared around the empty space. Eliot's mixer on the kitchen counter. Parker's open box of cereal next to the fridge. Hardison's screens, dark and silent. One of Sophie's elegant suit jackets, draped over the back of a chair.

The rage bubbled up, choking him. With a wordless shout, he heaved his glass at the wall. It exploded with a crash into a starburst of beautifully deadly prisms. Silent, alone, he watched the amber whiskey drip down the wall like tears.


End file.
